


a safe place to land

by joshllyman



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, First Bartlet Campaign, M/M, Political Campaigns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 15:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman
Summary: “Here’s an alternative, then, Joshua, since you’re insistent on driving yourself into the ground,” she says, moving piles around.Josh sighs as he opens the bottom drawer. “And what would that be, Donnatella?”She looks at him, smiles, mischief lighting her eyes. “You need to get laid.”





	a safe place to land

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "honest man" by ben platt.  
> many thanks to my wonderful beta luka for reading this over, and to my partners becca and sam for reading about a hundred versions of this as i wrote it. can't do it without you three.

“You’re cranky this morning.”

Josh sets his bag down in his chair and turns to narrow his eyes at Donna. “I’ve been in the office for literally five seconds.”

“I can tell these things. I have a sense.”

She isn't wrong. Josh has felt off for days, in a deep funk that he can't seem to shake. But he isn't going to give her the satisfaction of being right.

“Isn’t it possible that you telling me I’m in a bad mood is going to put me in a bad mood?”

Donna shrugs. “I have a sense.”

“Okay, well, you can take your sense and—”

“Josh, you should take a day off.”

He narrows his eyes at her again and crosses his arms. “I should take a day off,” he repeats.

“Yes.”

“Two weeks out from our first caucus and I should take a day off.”

“Yes.”

“Because you don’t want my negative aura in the office?”

“Because you’re working yourself to death and it’s not good for your mental health. And Joey agrees with me, by the way.”

Josh gives her a half-smile. “Do you two have frequent secret conversations about me?”

“In between our secret conversations about C.J. and Toby, yes.”

“Donna, really, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Josh, how many days in the last two weeks have you felt anxious?”

“I’m—not answering that.”

"Answer this then. When did you last take a day off?"

"I don't know, couple months ago?"

“You know you haven’t had a day off in—” Donna looks down at her phone. “Eight months and seventeen days? Including weekends and holidays?”

Josh raises his eyebrows. “Do you keep track of that?”

“And the day you took off then? You still worked from home.”

Josh actually pauses for a second and frowns. “That can’t be right.”

Donna sighs, and her tone softens. “When was the last time you actually celebrated your birthday, Josh?”

“Last year, you and Joey and I went out for drinks—”

“And discussed work.”

“Well, that’s what we do.”

Donna shakes her head. “It’s not what normal humans do. You need a break.”

Josh goes back to digging through the pile on his desk. “Hey, help me find the EPA stats on the Clean Air thing, would you, please? I have no idea where anything is in here.”

“Here’s an alternative, then, Joshua, since you’re insistent on driving yourself into the ground,” she says, moving piles around.

Josh sighs as he opens the bottom drawer. “And what would that be, Donnatella?”

She looks at him, smiles, mischief lighting her eyes. “You need to get laid.”

She walks away then and leaves Josh sputtering. It takes him a moment to catch up to her, and when he does she’s grinning broadly. “I do not—” his voice is way too loud— “I don’t need to get laid,” he says, more quietly.

“How long has it been, Josh?” she asks, sifting through files on her own desk.

“Well, since I’m assuming you’re not tracking that on your phone, there’s really no way to tell.”

She turns to him again and grins. “Well, I took the liberty of installing Tinder on your phone—”

“Donna!”

“—and I’ll help you set up a profile if you like—”

“You know, I’m really not the old geezer you think I am—”

“—so it’s a date, then? Meet me in my room tonight.” She winks at him, hands him the folder he’d been looking for, and disappears before he can find his footing again.

\--- 

“You need something more well lit,” Donna says, looking over his shoulder. Josh regrets, for what must be at least the 20th time that evening, coming over to Donna’s room. She’d somehow managed to rope Joey into this mess, too, and Joey pulls his phone toward herself and looks at the screen.

 _You should use that photo from New Hampshire, that one Donna took in front of the town hall? You look so handsome in that picture_ , she signs.

Donna nods, a smile appearing on her face, and steals the phone away from Josh before he can protest. Josh glares at Joey. “ _I look like a nerd in that picture,”_ he speaks and signs.

 _You are a nerd,_ Joey signs with a shrug, as Donna says the same thing aloud.

“I don’t need potential dates knowing that,” he mutters under his breath. Joey must have read his lips because she smirks at him.

“Alright, photo’s chosen.” Donna begins to hand him the phone back, then swipes it away again. “Wait sorry, one more thing.”

“What now?” asks Josh.

“Making sure you match with women and men,” Donna says. She rolls her eyes. “It’s buried in settings instead of just asking who you want to match with.”

“Right,” says Josh. He feels his face reddening a little.

“Done,” Donna says. She hands the phone back to him triumphantly. “Now get swiping.”

“I really don’t know if I’m comfortable—”

 _“Oh, honestly,”_ says Joey. “ _Just do it._ ”

Josh sighs and glances down at his phone. Donna and Joey position themselves on the bed so they’re behind him and can comment on his choices. Elizabeth, 32, seems attractive enough. He swipes left, and Donna and Joey protest.

“Hey, it’s my app,” he says.

David, 34, seems like a tool. Left. Amanda, 27, has more cat than face in her picture. Left. Macey, 30, has Ed Sheeran as her top artist. Left. Left. Left. Left. Left.

“ _Are you actually going to match with anyone?_ ” Joey asks.

Josh shrugs. “This was your idea.”

“ _It was Donna’s idea, but Donna is brilliant and I happen to agree with her._ ”

Sam, 32, shows up on his screen. He’s cute, all sharp angles, aviator sunglasses covering his eyes, only a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

Donna reaches in and swipes right.

“Hey!” Josh protests.

“You weren’t gonna do it and I can see you were into him,” she says.

Josh locks his phone and tosses it aside. “Let’s get some goddamn pizza in here so you two stop bugging me.”

 _You love us_ , signs Joey, smiling widely.

Josh sighs heavily. “Yeah, I do. Pizza.”

Donna lays down and pulls up the Donato’s app on her phone, and Joey runs her hands through Donna’s hair, and they’re arguing over toppings—“Only literal demons eat pineapple, Joshua,”—when Josh’s phone buzzes.

“Just get whatever, then,” he says, and grabs his phone and his meds. He raises his eyebrows at the notification.

“Is that him?” Donna asks.

“Uh, no,” Josh says. He pockets his phone, swallows his pill. “Trump is tweeting some stupid shit again. Can you believe that guy wants to be President?”

\---

When Josh finally shakes Donna and Joey off a while later and heads for his room, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at it again.

It had, in fact, been Sam the Tinder guy.

Josh bites his lip. Donna was right—it had been a while. He just isn’t sure this is the right way to go about giving his love life a kick start. He contemplates for another several long moments before he opens the message.

**you’re stranded on an island with your three favorite books—what do you have with you?**

“Huh,” says Josh aloud. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it isn’t this. He goes about answering.

the little prince, life of pi, & a brief history of time

The phone buzzes almost immediately with a response.

**you’re not from around here, are you?**

Josh laughs, puzzled, as he enters into his hotel room and kicks his shoes off.

are you?

**meet me for drinks and you’ll find out**

Jesus, this guy is bold. Josh sits on the bed and stares at his phone for a long moment, trying to decide how to respond.

westin hotel bar. how soon should i expect you?

**twenty minutes.**

Josh contemplates, for a second, texting Donna and Joey to ask what he should wear, and then immediately reconsiders. He wants to keep this to himself for a least a night. He tries on three different sweaters and literally none of them are _right_ , none of them are nice enough to wear on a date but also casual enough to look like he’s not trying too hard. Finally he decides what he’s wearing is good enough and heads downstairs to the bar.

\---

Josh hesitates at the door for a full two minutes, checking his phone a million times, seeing if Sam the Tinder Guy is going to send him another message. Maybe he’ll cancel. Maybe he’ll have hallucinated the whole thing, who knows. Finally he looks up and sees the back of a dark-haired head, a man drinking alone at the bar.

“Okay, here we go,” he says to himself, then berates himself for saying anything aloud at all. He enters confidently, he can do this, he’s gonna go on a date—

And then he runs directly into a server.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Josh says, the man glaring at him. Sam the Tinder guy turns around just in time to catch him trying to hand back the empty glasses he’d knocked to the floor.

“Josh?” calls Sam the Tinder guy.

Maybe he hasn’t seen me, Josh thinks to himself, holding up a hand and waving in greeting, his feet propelling him to the bar. Maybe I can turn tail and run now.

“Are you...okay?” Sam the Tinder guy asks.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Uh, hi. I’m Josh? From Tinder?” He sticks out a hand and curses himself internally.

Sam smirks and shakes his hand. “I gathered that. I’m Sam, also from Tinder.” Sam in real life wears a pair of thin no frame glasses, and god. That already stirs some feelings in Josh. Without the sunglasses to hide his eyes, Josh sees they’re a deep blue.  “You can stop shaking my hand anytime you want,” Sam says, still smiling, and Josh lets go quickly and shoves his hand in his pocket. He’s not sure he can save himself from embarrassment now but Sam the Tinder guy is...really cute. It’s worth a shot, anyway.

“So, Sam from Tinder. Where are you from in real life? I’m guessing West Coast from your tan.”

Sam smiles, brilliantly, and there’s the squishy feeling in Josh’s insides again. “California, born and raised. And I’m guessing you’re a New Englander.”

“Connecticut,” Josh says, nodding. “How on earth did you know that?”

“It’s the attitude,” Sam says. He signals for a drink from the bartender, who sets a beer down in front of Josh. “I knew you weren’t from around here because you didn’t say the Bible.”

Josh laughs. “I didn’t say the Bible because I’m Jewish.”

“And not from around here,” Sam says. He takes a sip of his drink and regards Josh over the rim of his glass. “Gay Tinder in this area is 99 percent Jesus-loving farm boys who want it up their asses.”

Josh bites his lip, because. God damn. This guy is the whole package, isn’t he. “Well, I’m definitely not that.”

“No, you’re not.”

Josh takes a swig of beer. “So, Sam. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a lawyer,” Sam says, leaning back in his chair. “Princeton and Duke.”

Josh leans forward with a smile. “I bet that line gets you laid, huh?”

“On occasion, yeah, it does.”

“Well, I don’t think it’ll work tonight,” Josh answers. “I’ve got a law degree, too. Harvard and Yale.”

“Damn,” Sam answers. He leans forward, lowers his voice a little. “And I was really hoping you’d be into it.”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t.” Josh answers, his voice deep. He looks Sam up and down. He’s very, very into it. “What brings you to middle of nowhere Iowa, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer?”

“Business,” Sam says. “You?”

“Business,” Josh agrees.

They drink in silence for a moment, staring each other down. Sam finishes his drink and sets it down, and the bartender brings him another.

“Tell me about yourself,” Sam says. “Something I can’t learn from your Tinder profile.”

Josh thinks for a moment. “According to my assistant I haven’t had a day off in over eight months, and the one day I took off I worked from home.”

“Damn. You should take a vacation.”

“Yeah, alright. Where do you want to go?”

Sam bites his lip, lowers his voice. “Wherever you want, babe.”

Josh’s heart skips a beat, and he takes a deep breath, trying to find his composure again. “You are really something, Sam from Tinder.”

Sam smiles and takes another sip of his drink. “So I’m told. But you’re something yourself, Josh from Connecticut.”

Josh ducks his head, tries to hide his smile. “Hey, you never answered the question. What are your three books?”

“Easy. The Lord of the Rings trilogy. It’s not a trilogy, technically, but you know what I mean.”

Josh looks up, tries to discern if Sam is joking, then laughs. “That explains everything.”

Sam tilts his head quizzically. “What, exactly, does it explain?”

Josh leans in and Sam does, too, and they’re barely more than a breath apart. “I was wondering how someone as attractive, intelligent, and funny as you are is single.”

“And you solved that mystery?”

“I did,” Josh says, winking. “You’re a nerd.”

Sam blushes red and oh, Josh wants to know exactly how deep that blush goes. “I’m not—you're wearing a cardigan in your profile picture,” Sam stutters, picking up his drink and swirling it around. This is the first time in the few minutes they’ve known each other that Sam has been anything less than composed; Josh imagines, for a brief moment, taking Sam apart at the seams, making him throw that poise out the window. It leaves him raw and wanting, and he’s heady with it. He finishes the last of his beer and sets down the bottle.

“So I’m a nerd,” Josh says, shrugging. “Maybe that means I’m into nerds.”

“I hope so,” Sam says, and the earnestness in his voice throws Josh for a loop, makes his heart beat a little faster.

“Sam,” Josh says, breathing deep. His eyes flick down to Sam’s lips, then back to his eyes. He puts a hand on Sam's thigh slowly, hears Sam's sharp intake of breath. “I haven’t done this before, and I might be a little too forward here but. I have a room upstairs. If you wanted to join me.”

Sam smiles slowly and drains his drink. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Josh gets up, pulls a twenty out of his wallet, throws it down at the bar. “Come on, then,” he says, and he leads Sam out of the bar.

The walk to the elevator seems much longer on way back from the bar than it had on the way to the bar, but Josh suspects that has something to do with having to fight the urge to throw Sam against a wall and have him in the hallway of the hotel. Josh jams the button for the elevator several times, shoves his hands in his pockets again. He tries not to steal too many glaces at Sam, but every time he does, Sam’s looking right back, wanting written all over his face. When the elevator finally arrives Josh tries not to rush in, but he does jam the door closed button as soon as he and Sam are both aboard. The doors close and Josh steps back to wait, and his fingers brush against Sam’s, and he swears he feels electricity between them. He looks up at Sam, his eyes flickering to Sam’s lips. He brushes their fingers together again, deliberate now, and feels that same shock rush through him.

“Fuck it,” he decides, and he captures Sam’s lips in a kiss. Sam moans quietly into his mouth and god, that sound should be illegal. Sam relaxes immediately into his touch and Josh takes his hands to Sam’s hips, guides him back against the wall. Sam’s mouth is open and Josh bites his lip, gets a gasp in response, and then the elevator door opens.

“Come on,” Josh says, his voice husky, and grabs Sam’s hand. Josh glances quickly both ways down the hallway, doesn’t see anyone he knows, and pulls Sam toward his room. He fumbles for his room key as they go, can’t seem to get his shaky hands to pull the card out of his pocket. They get all the way to his room and he still doesn’t have it, so he presses Sam into the door of his room and kisses him again, pulling on his tie to draw him closer with one hand and still grabbing for his key with the other.

“Aren’t we—on the wrong side—of the door?” Sam asks between kisses.

“Fucking—key—” Josh answers. He pulls apart from Sam for a moment, finally succeeds in opening the door, and they stumble into Josh’s room, limbs tangled together. Josh slams the door behind them and pushes Sam up against it, his hands grasping Sam’s hips in a way that might leave bruises. Sam laughs quietly against Josh’s lips, pulls away and leaves Josh gasping for breath.

“Don’t you have a bed?” he murmurs in Josh’s ear, and he pushes against Josh’s grip.

“Getting there,” Josh says, pulling them toward it. He undoes Sam’s shirt buttons as they go, throws his own shirt off. Sam’s lips graze across his throat and Josh can’t help it, moans loudly and digs his fingers into Sam’s hair to get him to stay there. Sam takes the hint, and Josh is distracted long enough for Sam to push him down into the bed, his hands running all over Josh’s chest. Josh arches his back, loosens his hold on Sam’s hair, stretches up into Sam’s touch just as Sam’s mouth finds his nipple. Josh gasps, and Sam laughs, and Josh uses the distraction to flip Sam over, pin down his hands; Sam moans loudly, and Josh laughs into the kiss he presses to Sam’s mouth.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, kissing Sam’s jaw.

“Shut up,” Sam gasps.

“Not a chance.” Josh tilts Sam’s head up so he can kiss his throat and make Sam moan again. He keeps Sam’s wrists pinned with one hand and reaches the other down into his pants and palms Sam’s dick. Sam twitches and bucks his hips up into Josh’s hand.

“Jesus,” Josh mutters, feeling himself thicken. He grinds himself down into Sam’s leg and dips his head down into his shoulder.

“Pants,” Sam reminds him, and he nods and pulls off his own, then Sam’s. “And condoms.” He grabs them out of his wallet and hands one to Josh. When they’re ready again Sam’s hands find his hips, pull him closer for the friction.

“Oh, fuck,” Josh groans. He bites Sam’s lip and pushes his tongue into his mouth, and Sam squirms more frantically underneath him. “Sam, fuck, can I—?”

“Yes,” Sam interrupts, “please.”

“Don’t even know what I was gonna ask,” Josh teases, mouthing at Sam’s neck.

“Do whatever you want,” Sam says.

“Fuck, Sam,” Josh says again, “you’re gonna ruin me.” He moves his mouth to Sam’s cock.

Sam cries out and thrusts his hips up, and Josh takes a hand to his hips to steady him. He works his mouth up and down Sam’s length. He can feel Sam shaking underneath him, so he takes his free hand and lays it in the center of Sam’s chest, holding him down just enough.

“Josh!” The way Sam utters his name is filthy and beautiful and right and Josh moans around Sam’s dick. “Josh, fuck, please—”

Sam comes with a shout, his hands twisting in Josh’s hair, and Josh leans his head against Sam’s hip, trying to catch his breath. After a moment Sam tugs him up and kisses him, open mouthed, and reaches down to stroke Josh’s cock. Josh leans into Sam’s shoulder and mutters muffled curses into his skin as Sam takes him to pieces.

“Say my name,” Sam whispers, desperate.

“Sam,” Josh keens, mouth next to Sam’s ear, and Sam works his hand faster. “Sam, Sam, Sam—!”

It’s too soon, too fast, but Josh comes, thrusting his hips into Sam’s hand and dropping his head to Sam’s shoulder again. Sam wraps an arm around him, slides a leg between Josh's as he tries to find solid ground again.

“Fuck,” he says after a while. “That was—”

“Amazing?” Sam prompts.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.” Sam nods his head fervently. “Yeah, it was.”

“Can I ask a stupid question?” Josh asks.

“Yeah, go for it.”

“Is it always like that with Tinder? Meet someone, connect immediately, fantastic sex?”

Sam pulls back to look Josh in the eye. “It’s pretty much never like that with Tinder.”

“Oh,” Josh says. He closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of sex on Sam’s skin. “Do you, uh. Do you wanna stay?”

“Mm,” Sam says noncommittally. “I want to, but my alarm goes off at an ungodly hour.”

“So does mine,” Josh says. “Not that I’m—I’m not trying to push. But you could stay if that’s all that was holding you back.”

Sam tightens his grip around Josh. “I’ll stay, then. Okay?”

“Okay,” Josh agrees, nodding. He smiles against Sam’s skin. “Okay.”

\---

“You’re very happy this morning,” Donna says as Josh walks into the office the next morning.

“It’s a beautiful wintery springish morning, Donnatella Moss! Sun is shining, birds are singing!”

“You got laid.”

Josh sputters. “Not—not necessarily!”

“Sam the Tinder guy?”

“...yeah.”

“You’re welcome, and I want details later.” She pats him on the shoulder and hands him a coffee.

“You’re an angel and truly, I do not deserve you.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get too used to it. What’s on for today?” Josh pulls out his phone and starts going through his messages.

“Meeting with Leo this morning, finishing up the speech for tomorrow’s event, we need to start working on…um, Josh?”

“Yeah, just a sec, Donna, dear,” he says, his nose still buried in his phone.

“Nope, gonna need you to look now,” she says under her voice, tugging on his sleeve.

“Donna, what?”

“Sam the Tinder guy is standing behind John Hoynes on the TV.”

Josh drops his coffee cup. It shatters at his feet as he looks up and sees Sam, exactly where Donna said he’d be.

“Fuck!” he exclaims. Several staff members look his way, and he realizes he’s covered in coffee. “Also, ow, that’s hot.”

“Jesus Christ, Josh,” Donna says, wiping his shirt with a towel. “How did you survive past twenty?”

“He told me he was a lawyer,” he hisses under his breath, checking to see if C.J. and Toby are still listening.

“And you told him you were a member of a traveling circus?” Donna asks. “You’ve got another shirt in your office, come on.”

“I told him I have a law degree,” Josh says as they move toward his office, “that I was in town on business and he said the same thing.”

"And you let it go at that? What kind of work did you think he was doing?"

"He said he was a lawyer!"

The TV reporter mentions his name then—Sam Seaborn—and Josh files it away in his head. He rubs at his eyes, feeling a headache start to form behind them. “Let’s just—let’s drop it, it doesn’t matter.” He undoes his shirt and starts putting on the clean one.

“You’re not gonna see him again?”

Josh raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

“You didn’t ask me to Google him.”

“Donna Moss,” he says, shaking his head and chuckling. He kisses her forehead. “You are wonderful and your loyalty to me does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.”

“Two compliments in one morning. Does that mean I get a raise?”

“Not a chance. Find out what you can about him from the campaign website but don’t spend too much time on it.”

“So you are gonna see him again.”

Josh smirks. “From the looks of it, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the coming months, just not in the way we may have seen each other last night. Go do work.”

\---

Josh spends his spare time that day, which isn't much, thinking about what to do about Sam. According to Donna, Sam writes Hoynes' speeches, and that's about all there is to the website. Personal Googling only confirmed the things Sam had mentioned the night before: degrees from Princeton and Duke, lawyer at some firm in New York. It figures that the only person he's been interested in in months is so hilariously off limits. Josh sends a message at eight forty, drinks again? same place and goes to the bar to wait.

It's only a few minutes, not even enough time for Josh's anxiety to set in, before Josh feels a hand on his shoulder. “Hi,” Sam says, appearing behind Josh, drink in hand. He takes the seat beside him and their knees knock together.

“Hi, Sam,” Josh says. “Hey, funny thing. I saw you on TV today.”

Sam smiles; under the table his hand finds Josh’s thigh. “Were you impressed?”

“I was,” Josh says. “Except it presents something of a problem for me.”

“Really?” Sam’s hand is moving up and inward. “And what’s that?”

Josh pulls his campaign badge out of his shirt.

Sam pulls his hand away.

“Well, fuck me,” he says. “You’re Josh Lyman?”

“In the flesh.”

“I really should have figured that out sooner.”

“I said the same about you.”

They both take a long gulp from their drinks.

“I—should go,” Sam says, not moving. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” Josh interrupts. “I didn’t know, either. And—you don’t have to go. We could just talk.”

Sam nods, and their knees whack against each other again.

“So, Hoynes?” Josh asks. “How’d you start working for him?”

“He recruited me,” Sam answers. “I was at Gage Whitney in New York, but I did some interning for Clinton when I was in school and Hoynes remembered me. Said he needed a speechwriter and I was the best.”

“I’ll admit he’s given some good speeches,” Josh says. “Gage Whitney?”

Sam looks at Josh quizzically. “It’s the second biggest law firm in New York. You haven’t heard of it?”

“Guess not.”

“You have a law degree.”

“Which I’ve never used to actually practice law.” Josh takes a sip of his drink. “I went straight into politics out of college, worked for congressman and senators, most recently as Chief of Staff for Senator Whitford from Massachusetts, but Leo McGarry is an old family friend and he flew me out to hear Bartlet speak. Haven’t been back to Washington since.”

“Wow,” Sam says. “You must think a lot of him.”

“Of Bartlet? Absolutely.” He traces a finger through the condensation that’s dripped onto the table from his beer. “He’s the real deal, Sam.”

Sam nods slowly. “And you think Hoynes isn’t?”

“I worked for Hoynes, however briefly. I know he isn’t.”

“Huh. He failed to mention that.”

“I don’t think he likes to talk about it.”

“I can see why. Losing you was a huge mistake on his part.”

Josh smiles. “You’re real smooth, Sam Seaborn. You should come work for us.”

“For Bartlet?”

“Yeah. You and Toby together—”

“Ziegler?”

“Yeah, he does the bulk of our speechwriting, but the two of you together? You’d be unstoppable.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at him. “As opposed to right now, when I’m stoppable.”

“With the right staff, you won’t be.”

Sam drains his drink and stands. “Thanks but no thanks, Josh. I’m good.” He turns to go but Josh, against his better judgment, grabs his wrist. Sam turns back, and there’s desire behind his eyes.

“Josh,” he says quietly, looking down at Josh’s hand. “We shouldn’t—”

“I know,” Josh answers. He lets go of Sam’s wrist. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—I'm sorry.”

They stare at each other for several long moments, and Josh thinks maybe he’s stopped breathing.

“You could,” Sam begins. He licks his lips, meets Josh’s eyes again. “You could take me upstairs, try to convince me.”

“I—do make a very compelling argument when I’m wearing less clothing,” Josh answers.

They practically run for the elevator.

Josh does a much better job tonight of keeping his hands to himself in the elevator and down the hallway, and Sam’s the one stripping Josh of his shirt the moment they get inside Josh’s room.

“With Trump as the frontrunner for the Republicans we don’t want a moderate on the left,” Josh says, undoing Sam’s tie.

“You know that was just a line, right?” Sam asks, unzipping Josh’s pants.

“...I do now.”

“Good,” Sam answers, grinning, and he goes back to relieving Josh of his clothing.

“Acknowledging that this is maybe not our best idea,” Josh says, pulling Sam toward the bed. “Should we—fuck.” He’s cut off by his own gasp as Sam rolls his hips into Josh’s, and Josh feels Sam’s erection grind against him.

“Less talking, maybe,” Sam mutters,

“Honestly, though,” Josh says, brushing kisses against Sam’s collarbone, his fingers playing at the waistband of Sam’s pants. “If we’re gonna do this, and I really,  _really_ wanna do this, but we have to establish some ground rules.”

“Okay,” Sam agrees, tilting Josh’s chin up to kiss his throat.

“Ground rules,” Josh repeats. “Are you listening?”

“Yeah.” Sam digs his fingers into Josh’s hips, lets his nails scratch a little. Josh moans and pulls away. “Hey,” Sam says indignantly.

“Ground rules,” Josh says again, “and I’m staying a step away until we’ve got them.”

Sam crosses his arms across his chest. “No strategy comparing.”

“Right,” Josh says. “Above the board. No talk about the candidates at all.”

“Fine,” Sam answers. “Anything else?”

Josh thinks for a moment, and Sam occupies his hands by taking off his pants and boxers. Josh licks his lips. “No, I think we’re good.”

“Good,” Sam answers, and he pulls Josh down into bed.

\---

Josh hesitates before knocking on Donna's door the next night. Sam's working late on something and Josh figures Donna deserves the truth. He's only a little surprised to see Joey in Donna's bed, her toenails wet with fresh polish.

" _Hey,"_ he speaks and signs, and Joey looks up at him with a smile.

 _Too bad about your Tinder guy_ , she signs, and Donna sits beside her and steals the polish she'd been using.

" _About that,_ " Josh says, and they both freeze.

" _Surely you didn't,_ " Donna says.

" _I may have met him for drinks again last night._ "

 _And then that was all?_ Joey prompts.

" _I tried to convince him to join our campaign._ "

" _Josh, you didn't._ "

" _I make a very compelling argument when I'm naked._ "

Donna and Joey groan and Josh sits on the edge of the bed. " _I know it's stupid,_ " Josh says. " _I_ _just...I really like him. He's funny, he's smart, he's incredibly interesting._ "

 _And he works for your enemy_ , Joey signs.

" _That's inconvenient, I admit. We have rules, though, and we'll be fine._ "

Donna sighs and reaches for Josh's hand. "I just don't want to see you get hurt," she says, meeting his eyes.

"Hey, do I need to remind you that this was your idea _?_ " Josh answers, indignant and angry, and Donna flinches, just a little.

 _I don't think she could have predicted this,_ Joey signs. Donna leans away from Josh and into Joey's side.

Josh frowns. " _You're right. I'm sorry, Donna._ "

" _Just promise us you'll be careful?_ " Donna asks.

Josh shakes his head with a smile and gathers both of them into a hug. "You're too good to me," Josh says into Donna's ear, and she pushes him away with a grin.

" _Go see your boyfriend, get out of here,_ " she says.

" _Not my boyfriend_ ," Josh answers on his way out the door.

\---

Before they go to bed the next night, Sam and Josh spend some time comparing schedules and figuring out when their hotel reservations happen to overlap in the same states. Sam writes everything meticulously in a leather planner, which, from Josh’s short glimpse of it as he reaches for his pill bottle, seems to be color coordinated.

“That’s a beautiful planner you have there,” Josh says, popping his meds and keeping his face as straight as possible.

Sam frowns and closes it with a snap. “When the Internet apocalypse happens and your Google calendar goes down, you won’t be making fun of my planner.”

“Do I still have Donna in this hypothetical? ‘Cause if I do, I’m fine.”

Sam shakes his head and pulls Josh in for a kiss.

“Hey,” Josh says, his voice low. “Have you considered joining the Bartlet for America campaign lately?”

“You know, I thought about it,” Sam says, setting his planner aside, leaning in to Josh. “And then I heard there’s this asshole on that campaign and I decided to stay where I am.”

Josh puts a hand on his chest. “Assholes? In my Bartlet campaign?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Well, you heard right. Whole campaign’s full of ‘em. You’d fit right in.”

Sam laughs and leans in to kiss Josh, and the conversation ends for the night.

\---

When they meet up again in New Hampshire, they skip the bar and go straight to Josh’s room, and Josh has a poster that he’s made describing all the ways Sam could benefit from switching to the Bartlet campaign.

“When did you even have time?” Sam asks, incredulous.

“Around three yesterday morning?” Josh guesses.

“Please tell me you didn’t send your assistant out for a poster board at three in the morning.”

“No, she got it around 11.”

Sam shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “You’re really something, Lyman.”

Josh kisses his lips quickly, then gestures to the poster board. “So listen, you got your Tobys and your C.J.s, your Joeys and your Donnas, and even your Joshes, but you know what the Bartlet campaign is really lacking? It’s lacking a Sam. We need a Sam. Just feels right.”

“Doesn’t this violate the ‘no talking about the candidates’ rule?”

“I’m not talking about the candidate, I’m talking about the campaign."

Sam laughs and shakes his head. “You’re walking on thin ice there, babe.”

“Maybe so. I can’t even imagine how much it would help Toby if he had a Sam though.”

“What’s he like?”

“Who, Bartlet?”

“No, Toby.”

“Right.” Josh thinks for a few moments. “Toby has one of those gruff exteriors that is really hard to crack. He’s always angry at something or other, but he has a heart of gold. He’s extraordinarily kind.”

“And your press person—did you say her name was C.J.?”

“Yes, C.J. Cregg. C.J. is the most talented woman in any room and she knows it. What she lacks in political experience she makes up for by working harder and smarter than anyone else on the campaign.”

“You mentioned a Joey?”

“Joey Lucas. Joey has a head for numbers like no one I’ve ever met. We’ve been friends for years. She’s beautiful and intelligent and amazing and she drives me crazy.”

“She?”

“Joey is short for Josephine.”

“Ah. And your assistant—Donna’s her name?”

Josh laughs. “I don’t even have the words to describe Donna Moss. She’s my best friend, she’s my right hand woman, she keeps my head on straight.”

Sam sighs. “Sounds like you’ve got a pretty good team over there.”

Josh nods and surveys his posterboard, then looks over at Sam. “Won’t be complete until you join us.”

Sam leans in and kisses him. “Very smooth, but not today. Tell me about Leo McGarry.”

Josh nods. “Leo’s an old family friend, like I mentioned. He and my Dad used to work together back in the day. He’s incredibly devoted to his job. He’s...he’s the best political mind in the entire Democratic party. But you knew that part.”

“I’ve heard,” says Sam, nodding.

“You gonna tell me about the people you work with?” Josh asks.

“Not much to tell,” says Sam with a shrug. “My assistant, Laurie. She’s been my friend for ages. Gives me hell when I need it, which, come to think of it, is most of the time. Actually it sounds like she and Donna would get along well.”

“How’d you meet?”

“I picked her up in a bar.”

Josh laughs and kisses Sam. “Of course you did.”

“Slept together once and decided we were better as friends. This was back when she was in law school, she went to George Washington, I can’t remember why I was in town that night. Anyway. We stayed in touch and she came to work for me when she graduated.”

“And there’s no one else you like on your campaign at all?”

Sam frowns. “I don’t get close with my coworkers.”

Josh narrows his eyes but doesn’t call him on it. “But if you worked on the Bartlet campaign…”

“Enough,” Sam says, laughing. “Come over here and let me get you naked. I haven’t seen nearly enough of you yet tonight.”

\---

Sam brings his laptop over in South Carolina. When he comes in, he tosses his shirt off and switches into an old pair of sweatpants that are too loose at the waist.

“Still working?” Josh asks.

“I just have a little bit to finish up,” Sam says. “If you can keep your eyes off my laptop I’ll suck you off in a bit.”

“Deal,” Josh agrees. “But just notice how I, Josh Lyman, work for the Bartlet campaign, and have finished working for the day.”

“Aren’t those emails on your phone?”

“Maybe.”

They settle in bed, Sam typing away on his laptop while Josh answers emails on his phone. It’s nice, and cozy, and Josh tries not to think too hard about how right it feels.

“Shit,” he says after a bit. “Didn’t take my meds tonight. They’re there on your side.”

“Just a sec,” Sam says, not looking up.

Josh waits a second and Sam makes no move for the bottle. “I’m just gonna grab them.”

“Okay.”

“Worry not, I’m closing my eyes.” Josh reaches over Sam and grabs his meds, kissing Sam on the cheek in the process, which Sam acknowledges with a contented hum. “You know, if you’re gonna work in here, we could probably save at least one of our campaigns some money by just combining rooms,” Josh says with his mouth full of water. He swallows and waggles his eyebrows at Sam.

Sam shakes his head. “I can’t imagine it’ll go over well with Hoynes.”

“Maybe not,” Josh says. He drops his head onto Sam’s shoulder, eyes still closed. “Have I ever mentioned how good you look in glasses?”

“Yeah, once or twice.” Sam kisses the top of Josh’s head and closes his laptop. “I think I’m done. Thanks for waiting.” He tilts Josh’s chin up for a kiss. “Hey, can I ask a question?”

“Ask away.”

Sam turns his body toward Josh, and Josh has to adjust so he’s sitting up more. “What meds do you take?”

Josh looks away, his face flushing. “It’s an anxiety med,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to conceal it.” Josh grabs the bottle again and hands it to Sam. “Lexapro. I have anxiety attacks sometimes. This helps lessen the frequency.”

Sam looks at the bottle in his hands.

“When I was a kid,” Josh begins. He shakes his head, stands, paces the room. “My sister. I had a sister. Joanie. She was my best friend, I looked up to her so much. She—she was babysitting me. When I was eight. And there was a fire and I, I ran out. And she didn’t.”

“Josh,” Sam exhales.

Josh shakes his head again, lowers his voice, turns away from Sam and crosses his arms. “I’ve had the attacks ever since.”

The silence in the room is heavy. Sam stands, crosses the room to Josh, and carefully puts his arms around him. He rests his chin on Josh’s shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Josh doesn’t answer, but when Sam laces his fingers through Josh’s, he doesn’t protest.

\---

“Wait a second,” Sam says suddenly, waking Josh out of his half-doze. “Have you had this tattoo the whole time?” Sam asks, tracing his fingers over the words on the inside of Josh’s bicep.

Josh looks quizzically at him. “I got that tattoo when I was eighteen. Have you really not noticed it?”

Sam blushes. “Apparently I’ve been looking at other things.”

Super Tuesday is coming and by some stroke of luck they’re in the same state, even if only for a night. Sam’s traced his lips over most of Josh’s body and is focused, now, on Josh’s arms. On his left bicep, in a typewriter script, are the words “in order to form a more perfect Union.”

Josh grins at him. “Other things, huh? My smokin’ hot bod distracts you?”

“Oh, my God,” says Sam, laying his head on Josh’s chest and laughing. “You’re such a dork.”

“Says Mr. Dungeons and Dragons camp.”

“I should never have told you about that.”

“Probably not.”

Sam focuses on Josh’s arm again. “It’s really nice,” he says, tracing each letter at a time. “And very you, honestly. You’re the kind of guy who should have a tattoo of the Constitution.”

“I’m getting the whole of Article 2 on my middle finger next, so that any time someone bitches about gun control I can show them what the law says.”

Sam laughs. “What made you decide to get this part?”

“I mean, it’s the purpose of the whole document, right?” Josh looks down at his own arm. “That’s why they wrote it, and why the government exists. We’re striving toward that goal of a more perfect Union.”

Sam kisses the tattoo, then Josh’s lips. “That’s very poetic.”

“That’s me, Mr. Poetry. Mr. Poetry and Mr. Dungeon and Dragons camp.”

Sam shakes his head and goes back to finding new places on Josh where his lips haven’t explored yet.

\---

 _So you’re still seeing Sam?_ Joey signs as they leave the office for the day.

 _Yes,_ Josh confirms. It’s cooler than he expected and he has to actually put his coat on rather than just carrying it.

 _It’s going well?_ she asks.

 _Yes_ , he signs again.

She punches his arm lightly. _You’re really not going to give me any more details?_

 _Like you’re not getting them from Donna?_ he signs back, grinning.

“ _Shut up._ ” Her face reddens.

 _Yes, I’m still seeing him, and yes, it’s going well, and yes, I intend to keep seeing him_ , Josh signs. _But we’re not in the same state for a few weeks and I’m hungry so you should text Donna and we can meet for dinner._

 _She’s already waiting for us,_ Joey answers.

Josh elbows her and she laughs and her face gets even redder and Josh wonders how he got so lucky.

\---

Josh is feeling a lot of things, and not one of them is interest in this fundraiser. It’s a fundraiser for the DNC, not even Bartlet himself, and he hasn’t seen Sam in two and a half weeks and they have plans to see each other tonight and he just. Hates this, and wants to leave and go back to his hotel and hole up with Sam.

“You know, if you keep shaking your leg that hard, you just might vibrate us all into the next room,” C.J. says to him.

“Is it more fun in there?”

“What’s gotten into you?”

Josh shakes his head. “I’m just restless.”

C.J. frowns and lowers her voice. “You’ve been taking your meds?”

He nods. “Thanks. I think I’m gonna take a walk, get more tea.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

He nods again and gets up from the table. He makes two rounds of the room, shakes several hands, focuses on conversations, drums up support, and then runs directly into a solid figure behind him.

“Senator Hoynes, I’m so sorry,” he says, trying to fight down the way his cheeks are reddening.

“No problem at all, Josh,” Hoynes says curtly. There’s venom in his voice. “How’s the campaign trail treating you?”

“Oh, you know,” says Josh, avoiding an answer.

“Good, good. Have you met Sam Seaborn? He’s the main speechwriter for _our_ campaign.”

Josh’s heart stops entirely as Hoynes grabs Sam from whatever conversation he’s having. Sam seems shocked for a moment, and then Josh watches as his face changes into one of amused delight.

“No, I don’t think we have met,” Sam says, enthusiastically shaking Josh’s hand. “I’m Sam Seaborn.”

“Lemon,” says Josh.

“Sorry?” Sam says, smiling.

“Sorry, Lyman. Lemon Lyman. Sorry, Josh Lyman, uh. I’m on the Bartlet campaign.”

Sam is visibly shaking with his effort to hold back his laughter; Josh’s face is the same red as the flag behind him; Hoynes just seems confused. “So what do you for the Bartlet campaign, Mr. Lemon?”

“It's Lyman, actually, and as little as possible,” says Toby, appearing at Josh’s side. Hoynes spares a glower for Toby and disappears. Toby smirks and offers his hand to Sam. “Toby Ziegler, Bartlet for America.”

“So I’ve heard,” Sam says, shaking Toby’s hand. Josh is absolutely certain this is how he’s going to die. “I’m Sam Seaborn.”

“The speechwriter.”

“Yes.”

“Your speeches are really something, you know that?” Toby says. “Shame your talent is wasted on someone like Hoynes.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Someone like Hoynes?”

Toby takes a long drink and steps closer to Sam. “John Hoynes isn’t the future of America. He’s a moderate in a time where moderation is obsolete. He won’t be elected this year. That’s where our guy comes in.” Toby’s eyes shift to Josh, then back to Sam. “It’s not too late, though. You could always come work for us.”

Josh drains his drink to avoid meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Everything I’ve heard about you was right, Toby,” Sam says, smiling. “I’ve got to get back but it was good to meet you, Toby, Lemon.”

Sam scoots away and Toby turns to Josh.

“Lemon?”

“I fucked up.”

Toby starts walking back toward their table and Josh follows, desperate to avoid having to talk to anyone else. “And introduced yourself as Lemon?”

“I got confused.”

“By what?”

Josh blinks several times. “The tea.”

Toby stares at him for several long seconds in which Josh would like nothing more than to sink into the floor. “Hey C.J.,” Toby says, addressing her but keeping his eyes on Josh. “Josh has the hots for the speechwriter on the Hoynes campaign.”

“I don’t!” Josh exclaims, his voice breaking, as C.J. starts laughing. Toby smiles behind his glass, and Josh looks at his empty one. “I need another drink.”

Josh fights his way through the rest of the night, dogged by C.J. and Toby's constant teasing. The moment it looks socially acceptable he bolts and sends Sam a text—get up here right now.

There’s a knock on the door less than five minutes later.

“Hello, Lemon.”

Josh shuts the door firmly behind Sam and glares at him, and Sam bursts into laughter.

“You’re such an asshole,” Josh whines, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”

Sam smirks at him. “You missed me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He grabs Josh by the chin and meets his eyes. “That’s too bad, ‘cause I missed you.” He presses his lips to Josh’s and Josh melts into the touch.

“Maybe I missed you a little,” he says when they pull away.

“That’s what I thought,” Sam says, kissing him again. Josh wraps his arms around Sam’s waist and buries his head in Sam’s chest.

“I made such an ass of myself tonight,” he says, and he feels Sam’s chest shake with laughter again. “C.J. and Toby think I have, and I quote, the hots for you.”

“Don’t you?” Sam asks.

Josh glares at him. “They wouldn’t let it rest the entire night.”

“C’mere,” Sam says, pulling Josh over to the bed, and Josh sits between Sam’s legs, relishing in the feeling of Sam’s arms around him. Sam rests his chin on Josh’s shoulder. “You’re not worried about it, are you?”

Josh sighs and leans back against Sam. “Maybe a little.”

“I’m sure they were just teasing, babe.” Josh hums at the endearment, and Sam ducks in to kiss his cheek. “You worry too much.”

“It’s the anxiety.”

“Mm,” Sam agrees. He pushes Josh’s collar out of the way to kiss his neck, and Josh closes his eyes. Sam reaches around to start undoing the buttons on Josh’s shirt. "Hey," mumbles Sam into Josh's skin.

"Hey," Josh answers, his voice low.

Sam finishes the last button and pulls Josh's shirt off, tosses it off to the side. He kisses the top of Josh's spine. "Do you know how cute you are when you're embarrassed?"

"'M not," Josh protests, his face reddening.

"You are." Sam kisses a line down the center of Josh's back. "I find you very...a-peel-ing."

Josh freezes and turns around to face Sam, who is shaking with silent laughter.

"In fact," Sam says, "I think you might be juice what I'm looking for."

Josh blinks.

"No need to be so melon-choly." Sam's smile splits his face.

"Have you been thinking of puns since you ran into me?" asks Josh flatly.

Sam leans in conspiratorially. "Have I gone too far over the lime?"

"That's it." Josh tackles Sam and Sam finally lets out the laughter he's been holding back, and it's loud and raucous and beautiful. "You asshole!" Josh calls, joining in the giggling as he pins Sam to the bed and tickles him.

"Don't be so sour!" Sam yells, writhing out of Josh's way. Josh grabs a pillow and hits him with it and Sam laughs even harder, grabs a pillow himself and hits back. They fight for a minute but Sam is laughing too hard to fight back; he puts a hand up and Josh relents.

"God, you're the worst," Josh says, smiling and kissing Sam's cheek.

"Well, when life gives you Lymans," Sam answers.

Josh groans and Sam laughs loudly again, kissing the parts of Josh's skin that are sensitive and ticklish and making Josh laugh, too.

Their laughter is cut off by a knock at the door.

Josh looks over to Sam, and Sam covers himself quickly with the blankets and lays as still as he can. Josh composes himself and crosses the room to answer the door.

“Yeah, can I—Donna?”

She’s glaring at him, an eye mask pushed up onto her head and her hair every which way. “Are you aware it’s two in the goddamn morning.”

Josh stifles his laughter. “Uh, yeah.”

“You and your goddamn boyfriend haven’t shut up all night.”

“He’s not—”

She grabs his ear and pulls hard, and Josh exclaims a string of curses.

“If you don’t go to sleep, I will kill you and Toby and Joey will help me hide your body.”

“Yeah, alright, we’ll keep it down,” Josh says, and she releases him.

“Sorry, Donna!” calls Sam from the bed, and Josh dissolves into laughter again as he shuts the door.

“You’re such an asshole,” Josh says again, crawling back into bed, still laughing as he wraps his arms around Sam.

Sam throws the covers over Josh and it’s pitch black; suddenly there’s tension where it wasn’t before, as Josh’s breaths get shorter and his hands find the sensitive spots on Sam’s stomach.

“Sam,” Josh whispers, brushing a kiss against his collarbone.

“Shhhh,” Sam says, and pulls Josh toward him, pressing their lips together, and that shuts them up.

\---

In Ohio Sam drops heavily into the bed without even taking off his coat. Josh follows him over to the bed and rests a hand on his back.

“Are you alright?”

Sam mumbles something unintelligible into the pillow.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

Sam turns his head. “It’s been a long day.”

“Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“You wanna deal with mopey Sam?”

“I don’t mind dealing with any Sam.”

Sam’s lips upturn in a hint of a smile. "The first night we met, you said you couldn't understand why I was single."

"Still can't."

Sam sighs heavily. "I left my fiance to take the job with Hoynes. Lisa, was her name. She was beautiful and smart and funny and I was not in love with her, not at all. She told she wasn't waiting for me to come back.” Sam shoves his face back into the pillow. “Tonight would have been our anniversary."

Josh is silent for several moments, trying decide if Sam wants to talk any further. After a bit Josh lays down and rests his hands behind his head. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You did what you had to do.”

“Yeah.”

Josh turns his head to look at him; Sam senses the movement and does the same. Josh looks into Sam’s eyes for several long moments. “You’re a good man, Sam. I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

“Last I saw she was on vacation with some hotshot doctor in the Bahamas.”

“See, there you go.” Josh waggles his eyebrows. “You want me to take you on vacation to the Bahamas?”

Sam turns so his body is curled toward Josh. “When we have Ohio right here? Nah, I’m good.”

Josh leans in to kiss Sam, and Sam softens into his embrace. When they pull apart, Josh cups Sam’s jaw with his hand. “Wanna just watch TV tonight?”

Sam closes his eyes, drinks in Josh’s touch. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

\---

“Donna, can you get the final numbers from Joey for our latest poll?” Josh calls to her.

Donna hands him a report. “Already done.”

“Thank you,” he says, taking it and looking through. Donna leans against the door frame in his office while he reads. After a moment he realizes she hasn’t gone and looks up at her. “Can I help you?”

“You’re happy,” she says.

“Is this an aura thing again?” he asks, frowning.

“It’s not an aura thing,” Donna confirms. She comes into his office all the way and perches on the corner of his desk. “I told you, I can sense these things. I’m prepared to say I know you better than you know yourself, and I can tell. You’re happy.”

Josh shakes his head, a smile appearing on his face. “Yeah,” he says, setting the report down for a moment. “I guess I am.”

“Are you prepared to tell me I’m right?”

“I am not,” he says, picking the report back up. “And also you have work, go do your work.”

She sticks her tongue out at him as she leaves the office.

\---

Florida is the worst, and Josh is exhausted, totally prepared to just fall into bed, when Sam had texts him. **just got into town. i wanna see you tonight.** That’s all it takes. He chugs an espresso shot as he waits for Sam to knock.

“You look like shit,” Sam says as he enters, kissing Josh’s cheek.

“You’ll understand when you’re older.” They climb into bed and Josh leans his head against Sam’s shoulder. “Just waiting for the caffeine to kick in. And anyway, you weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow.”

“We caught an earlier flight. Seriously, though,” Sam asks, tilting Josh’s chin up to look at him more closely. “Are you alright?”

Josh smiles, leans into the touch. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Sam leans his forehead against Josh’s. “Me, too.” He kisses Josh, short and sweet. “Alright, go ahead with your speech so we can get it over with.”

Josh barks out a laugh. “You’ve heard it. How about a debate instead?"

"Interesting choice of foreplay, but sure," Sam says, elbowing him.

"I know exactly how to turn you on. What’s the single most important issue facing the next President?”

“Education,” Sam says immediately.

“Really? Not gun control or healthcare?”

“Here’s the thing,” Sam answers, and Josh can see the wheels turning in his brain, and Josh loves this, loves watching Sam think. “With better education, everything else will fall into place. Josh, our schools are in shambles. Schools—” Sam stands, runs his hands through his hair, begins to pace back and forth. “Schools should be palaces, all kids should be getting free meals, every day, teachers should be able to outfit their classrooms with the best technology available, districts should be funding before and after school programs—because all of those things are gonna bring us the best and brightest generation we’ve ever seen, and those are the kids that are gonna fix gun control and women’s rights and LGBT policy and—what are you doing?”

Josh holds up his notepad. “Writing down everything you’re saying?”

“What, so you can use it in one of your speeches? I don’t think so,” Sam says, jumping back into the bed and attempting to wrestle the paper out of Josh’s hands. They tussle for a minute, laughing and rolling over, until Sam finally manages to pin Josh’s hands to the bed. He pulls the paper from Josh’s hands, crumples it up, and tosses it across the room.

“Have I mentioned lately that you’re brilliant?” Josh whispers, pupils blown, biting his lip.

Sam leans down and brushes his lips lightly against Josh’s neck, and Josh shivers underneath him. “Once or twice,” he answers. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“You’re brilliant,” Josh says, and Sam kisses his chest, his stomach, the curve of his hip. “You’re brilliant, you’re brilliant, you’re brilliant.”

Josh stops talking, then, and lets Sam take him apart.

\---

“You’ve been happy,” C.J. notes as they walk into the restaurant for lunch.

Josh stops his walking and gives her a look. “Am I not always happy?”

“I just mean. You seem less anxious. I thought you’d be going crazy over Joey’s numbers the other day and you let them slide right off.” They pause for a moment as they’re seated and the waiter takes their drink orders.

Josh shrugs and glances at the menu. “We’ll have our day.”

C.J. reaches over and puts her hand on his. “I’m happy for you, is all I’m saying. I’m happy you’re happy.”

Josh gives her a half-smile. “You haven’t been having any secret conversations with Joey and Donna, have you?”

C.J. narrows her eyes. “I’m afraid all our conversations are entirely public.”

“Alright,” Josh says, and he goes back to studying the menu. “Just checking.”

\---

Sam slams his laptop shut and launches out of bed. He paces across the room several times before turning to Josh.

“Anything I can help with?” Josh asks.

“I’m just—stuck,” Sam snaps. “The words are all in here—” he points at his head, “—but they won’t go in there.” He gestures are his laptop.

“Why don’t you bounce some ideas off me?” Josh suggests, setting his own laptop aside. “Maybe it’ll help unjam your brain.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that breaks all the rules we’ve established.”

“What if I absolutely promise that nothing you say in this room will leave this room?” Josh asks.

Sam frowns. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

Josh holds a hand out to Sam, and Sam crosses back over to him to take hold.

“I promise,” Josh says. “It’s just us, and I promise that I won’t take anything you say back to our campaign.”

Sam is still frowning and says nothing. Josh kisses his hand.

“Sam. You can trust me.”

Sam relaxes, marginally, and sits at Josh’s feet. “I know I can,” he says.

“I know you know,” Josh says. “What are you stuck on?”

Sam grabs his laptop and opens it again, scans through his speech. “Let me—uh, here, this is the troubling part.”

“Alright.”

“Every day children, teachers, administrators go to schools, and they’re scared for their lives. They’re scared because, at any time, a gunman could walk in with an assault rifle and end their lives, the lives of their friends, their classmates, their colleagues. This will not end until we ban high capacity magazines, until we can stand up to shooters and say no, you will not access those magazines, you will not take our right to live from us.”

Josh is silent at the end of the speech. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, rests his chin on his knees.

“What do you think?” Sam asks, looking fidgety.

“Well,” Josh says, his voice flat. “You’re a much more interesting speaker than Hoynes.”

“Thanks,” Sam says. He sets his laptop aside. “I just—it’s not very convincing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Sam bites his lip. “Josh, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

Josh shakes his head, looks down and away from Sam. “It’s just. It’s a load of horseshit, isn’t it?”

Sam blinks several times. “Sorry?”

“It’s horseshit,” Josh repeats. His voice is getting louder. “Getting rid of high capacity magazines isn’t going to help our gun problem. Getting rid of guns will help our gun problem.”

“It’s a step on the way there. Josh, if this is making you upset, we can just drop it.” He puts a hand out and reaches for Josh’s leg, but Josh stands and avoids his touch.

“No, we can’t, because this is important and you’re wrong!”

“Hey, could you please listen—?”

“Are you serious?” Josh asks, his voice on the verge of shouting. “You cannot possibly believe that bullshit!”

Sam deflates and shakes his head. “No. I don’t.”

Josh is silent, breathing heavily and trying to shake off the anxiety threatening to overtake him. “Then why did you say it?”

“Because my boss does believe it, and he’s paying me to convince other people to.”

Josh turns away from Sam, walks over and aligns his back with the wall. He can feel Sam’s eyes on him, and he runs a hand through his hair.

“My therapist said it would relax me.”

Sam crosses the room hesitantly. “I—I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me to stay tonight.”

Josh exhales and shakes his head. “Of course I want you to stay.”

Sam closes the distance between them and pulls Josh into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Josh wraps his arms around Sam’s waist and lets his head fall against Sam’s shoulder. “I just don’t understand how you can work for him,” Josh mumbles. “You’re just as liberal as I am, you’re not a moderate. How can you be content with Hoynes? How could you support him?”

Sam is quiet for a while, holding Josh against him. Josh can feel his chest rising with his breath, can feel his heart beating, steady and sure. Josh matches his breath to Sam’s, wills himself to calm. Finally Sam pulls away just enough to look Josh in the eye.

“When I agreed to work for the campaign, Bartlet wasn’t a factor,” he says slowly. “But Trump was. And I was scared. I wasn’t already in politics the way you were, and I wanted to get involved. We’ve made so much progress in the last eight years. I didn’t want to backslide.”

Josh fights the tears away from his eyes and nods. “I’m still angry, but not with you,” he says. “There’s just—no fucking reason. We shouldn’t have to be scared.”

“We shouldn’t.”

He looks Sam in the eyes. “I wish I’d gotten to you first.”

Sam smiles softly and kisses his forehead. “Come back to bed,” he whispers.

The last of Josh's fight leaves him in a whoosh. “Yeah, alright.”

He leads Josh back across the room and lets him settle against his chest. Josh’s muscles relax slowly, and he’s just drifting off to sleep when Sam speaks again.

“Josh?”

“Hmm?”

“I wish you’d gotten to me first, too.”

\---

“There’s something on your desk,” Donna says the next morning, taking Josh’s coat from him as he walks into the office.

“There usually is. Am I in trouble?”

“No. I mean there’s _something_ on your desk.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s  _something_ on your desk!”

“I want you to know that every time you say that, I get more confused and not less.”

Donna rolls her eyes, drops her voice. “Laurie dropped it off.”

Josh stops walking and looks at Donna, leans in close to her ear. “Laurie dropped it off?”

“Sam’s assistant?”

“Yeah, I know who she is, and also maybe don’t say that quite so loud.”

“I don’t know how much more quietly I can whisper.”

Josh pulls away from her. “I’ll be back out in a minute.”

He goes into his office and closes the door, and on his desk there’s a small wrapped box. The tag has a palm tree drawn on it and reads  _from your friend in the Bahamas._ Josh smiles to himself and opens the box.

Inside is a frame, and in the frame is a crumpled, slightly ripped paper—the notes Josh had taken on Sam’s speech in Florida. There's a post it attached to the frame.

_I do trust you._

Josh runs his fingers across the glass and feels an ache in his heart that he refuses to identify.

“Whatcha got, Romeo?” Donna asks, sticking her head into his office.

“I’m not sharing,” he says, shoving the frame into a desk drawer and the post it into his pocket.

“You know I’m just gonna look later.”

“Yes, I do, and you’ll keep your harassment to yourself until then.”

“Deal.”

Somewhere between meetings she does, indeed, find him later, and teases him for being so sentimental about something so political.  
Josh shrugs it off. “It’s how we are.”

“Nerds, the both of you. You’re made for each other.”

Josh reddens and shoos Donna out of his office.

“Don’t tell Joey!” he calls after her.

She turns and grins. “Too late!”

\---

When Sam comes over that evening, he barely closes the door behind him before Josh’s lips and hands are all over him, tugging at his clothes and finding bare skin wherever he can.

“Hi, baby, how are you?” Sam asks with a laugh, letting Josh have his way.

Josh pauses for a moment and puts his mouth next to Sam’s ear. “You are too good to me.”

“Not sure that’s possible,” Sam mutters.

Josh lets his head fall into Sam’s neck and shakes it in disbelief. “Thank you for the frame,” he says. He pulls away so he can look into Sam’s eyes. “It’ll look so good in my office in the White House.”

Sam grins widely. “Arrogance looks good on you.”

Josh hoists Sam up and Sam automatically wraps his legs around Josh’s waist.

“You look good on me,” Josh answers, and he carries Sam over to the bed.

\---

“Gonna storm today,” Donna says as Josh comes into the office.

Josh looks out the window at the sunny morning. “Yeah, alright. It’s a light day today, right?”

“You have some phone calls to make this morning, but otherwise, yes. Leo wants a lunch meeting with you, C.J., and Toby.”

“Sounds good, let’s all take a deep breath today, shall we?”

There are exactly thirty seconds of blissful quiet, and then, as if by design, everyone's phones begin to buzz. Josh pulls his own out and checks it.

"Oh, my God," he says softly.

"Josh!" yells Leo from his office.

"On it!" he calls back. C.J. appears at his elbow, her face grave. "C.J., dig up that image we were saving for June, with Bartlet and his daughter, tweet it out with a quote from the statement Toby's about to write. Toby!"

"Already on it," says Toby, scribbling furiously on a notepad.

"Good. Where's Joey?"

"Right here," she says, appearing in front of him.

" _Keep an eye on social media, see what people are saying, monitor for hashtags. Polling will start soon, I'll let you know._ "

" _Got it._ "

"Donna!"

She looks up, and he gestures for her to follow him to his office. He turns around just after they get in the door, lowers his voice. "Get Sam’s office on the phone. Please."

She turns to leave but he catches her shoulder.

"Take the call in here."

She nods, a frown appearing on her face. He shuts the door and goes to sit at her desk.  A loud noise catches his attention; he looks up, and it begins to pour outside, followed by a loud crack of thunder. He looks down at his phone again, scans the first few lines of the first article he pulls up.

“Josh,” calls Donna. “He’s not in the office.”

Josh frowns. “Alright. Thanks.” He stands and paces several steps, feels anxiety building in his stomach and head.

_Former Texas Senator and current Democratic presidential candidate John Hoynes was caught railing against the LGBT community in a video that has now gone viral. In the video, Senator Hoynes allegedly uses multiple slurs to refer to gay and transgender people. The video appears to be several years old. The campaign office for Senator Hoynes has not yet responded to requests for comment._

“First draft,” Toby calls, throwing his notepad. Josh reads it over, gives a nod of approval, and gives it back to Toby to give to Leo. “C.J., third line,” he yells over to her, pointing at Toby.

“On it,” she answers, following Toby into Leo’s office.

Josh pulls his phone back out and frowns at it. Finally he opens his messages and writes to Sam.

call me. text me. please.

\---

Within half an hour the Bartlet for America campaign tweets out a statement reaffirming their stance on the rights of all Americans, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity, complete with a graphic of Jed Bartlet in front of a Pride flag (the picture had been taken two years prior when he had attended Concord Pride with Ellie). The office fields calls from reporters all day, confirming everything the statement had said, did the Governor have any further comment regarding Hoynes’ specific comments, et cetera. Liberal news outlets blow up all day, condemning Hoynes, praising Bartlet. Conservative news outlets blow up, too, condemning them both as usual, but Hoynes in less inflammatory language. By five o’clock Bartlet’s pulled ahead in polling by three points; this is the first time in three months they've been anything other than neck and neck. Something in Josh's stomach twists. He wants to win, but God. Not like this.

There’s no answer from Sam all day.

He stays in the office longer than he wants, lets Donna go early, tries not to think about what Sam might be going through. By seven twenty he’s found there’s literally nothing else he can do today.

“Go,” Leo says, when he asks for more work for the third time. “We did good today. Get some rest.”

Josh checks his office phone one last time, and when there are no voicemails, he finally leaves. He debates sending another message to Sam on the way back to the hotel, but he can’t think of what to say. He sighs as he pushes the door to his hotel room open—and finds Sam, sitting upright in his bed, staring straight at him.

"Donna gave me your spare key."

"Sam," Josh breathes, closing the door behind him. He walks quickly across the room, wraps his arms around him, and notices quickly that he's soaked. "Jesus, did you swim here?" he asks quietly, not letting go.

"It's raining."

"Umbrella?"

"Don't have one."

Josh sighs, presses his face into Sam's hair. Sam seems to barely register the contact at all.

"Come on," Josh says, grasping Sam's hand. "You'll catch cold, you need to change."

Sam doesn't protest as Josh pulls him up and over to the closet. He strips Sam gently, pulls off his coat and suit and tosses them in the general direction of the bathroom. He wraps a towel around Sam and digs through his closet until he finds the old Yale sweatshirt and loose flannel pajama bottoms he'd packed for depression clothes. Once Sam is dressed again Josh leads him over to the couch and they maneuver into a position that Josh imagines is much more comfortable for Sam than for Josh himself, Sam leaning in and stealing Josh's warmth, his face buried in Josh's chest. Josh puts an arm around him and breathes in his scent.

"Sorry I got your bed all wet," Sam mumbles.

"It'll dry."

"Wasn't really thinking, I guess."

"Sam, it's alright." He rubs a hand soothingly on his back, and Sam relaxes into the touch. "Don't worry about it, alright? I'm just glad you're here."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Josh presses a kiss into the back of Sam's head, feeling a rush of protectiveness and concern. "We don't have to talk about anything tonight. Just get some rest. We'll figure it out in the morning." He kisses Sam again, rests his head against his. “I was worried about you.”

Sam’s grip on the fabric of Josh’s shirt tightens, but he doesn’t answer.

Sam does drift off to sleep, eventually, his hold around Josh's chest slackening and his mouth dropping open just a little. Josh tries to sleep, but between physical discomfort and mental anguish, can't seem to get there. He's livid with Hoynes, with the campaign, with everything that's caused Sam to feel so defeated he can barely stand. He wants to fight, wants to scream, wants to run Hoynes down with his car. He breathes deeply, fighting off his anger, and buries his face into Sam's back. Sam deserves everything. Josh wants to be the person to give Sam everything.

Josh rests, maybe. At some point he closes his eyes and when he opens them again it's lighter outside, so. He probably slept. He doesn't feel overly worried about it. In the night Sam has shifted so his head is in Josh's lap, now, and his legs are swung over the end of the couch. As carefully as he can, Josh stands and rests Sam's head on the couch, grabs a blanket to throw over his sleeping form, kisses his forehead, mutters words he shouldn’t say, against his better judgment.

"I'll be right back," he says, and then writes that on a note, too. Sends Leo a text, tells him not to expect him in today. Tells Donna emergencies only.

Thank God they're in the north, Josh thinks, walking his way to the closest Dunkin Donuts. Dunkin has the only acceptable depression coffee. He orders two, and two dozen assorted donut holes, and a couple breakfast sandwiches just in case. It's harder walking back with his hands full but he manages, and by the time he makes it to the room Sam is sitting upright, his arms wrapped around his legs, his chin on his knees, staring out the window.

"Hey," Josh says softly. "I brought food."

"Is someone joining us?" Sam asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Uh, no," Josh says, putting the coffee down and kicking his shoes off. He brings his offerings over to Sam and sits on the floor beside him. "I wasn't sure what you liked for breakfast, so. I have options."

Sam doesn't say anything, but his eyes go soft. He holds the coffee between his hands.

"Shouldn't you be working?"

Josh shrugs. "I haven't taken a day off in eleven months. I think I'm owed one."

"No wonder you're always tired. You should take a vacation."

"Where do you want to go?"

Sam laughs softly and shakes his head, puts a hand on Josh's shoulder. "Wherever you want, babe."

Josh has to fight back some emotions, then, and he stares at the breakfast sandwich in his hands. "Did you...know? That Hoynes felt that way?"

"I had an idea," Sam answers. He sighs and sets his coffee down, pulls the blanket closer around himself. "He'd never said anything one way or the other in the time I knew him, so. I figured."

"We still don't have to talk about it," Josh says quietly.

"You're not going to give me your 'join the Bartlet campaign' speech?" Sam asks, a hint of bitterness souring his tone.

"Nah," Josh says. "Not today."

Sam nods, and the softness comes back to his eyes. "Alright," he agrees. Silence passes between them, and Josh puts a hand on Sam's ankle, leans his head against his leg. Sam runs a hand through Josh's hair.

"You don't have to do this," Sam whispers.

Josh looks up at him. "I do."

"You don't—"

"Why would you say that?" Josh asks, anger and fear in his voice.

"It's." Sam closes his eyes, returns his hand to his lap. "I mean. It's just sex, right?"

Josh feels tears behind his eyes and turns away so Sam can't see them. He struggles to breathe for a moment, feels anxiety roaring in his chest, has to fight his way calm again. "Is that what it is to you?" he asks finally.

Sam doesn't answer right away, and Josh looks back and lets him see his face.

"This isn't ‘just sex’ to me, Sam," he says. He tightens his hold on Sam's ankle. "It stopped being just sex a long time ago. You are brilliant and funny and kind and I care about you, Sam Seaborn. Goddamnit, I care about you so much. I never wanted you to leave the Hoynes campaign because I wanted to deal him some sort of devastating blow, although it would have been one. I want you to work for us because you're the most amazing man I've ever met and I—" The fight in him leaves just as quickly as it came, and Josh shakes his head. "No, it isn't just sex. I'm not sure it ever was."

Sam is silent for a long time, and Josh tries to think back, tries to figure out if he took his meds last night. He doesn’t think he did. Sam’s voice is small when he finally speaks again. “Okay.”

"That's it?" Josh says, a bitter laugh escaping despite himself. "Okay?"

Sam slides off the couch, onto his knees, and cups Josh's cheek with his hand. "Okay."

And he presses his lips to Josh's.

Josh wraps his arms around Sam’s waist and leans into Sam’s touch. “Sam,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against Sam’s. “Okay, okay, okay.”

“Come on,” Sam says, getting up and taking Josh’s hand. “Come to bed, come on.”

Josh obliges and takes off his shirt on the way there, and Sam’s hands find his chest, trace over his tattoo. Sam pulls Josh down on top of him in the bed and Josh hovers over, brushing kisses against Sam’s neck and jaw. Sam whispers something that might be “you’re beautiful” into the crook of Josh’s neck, and Josh finds his lips again, lets his hands wander down to pull off the sweatshirt he’d lent him.

“Hey,” Sam whispers, his eyes half shut. He’s looking at Josh like he hung the moon and Josh thinks he might burst from the ache of happiness inside his chest.

“Hey,” agrees Josh. He kisses Sam’s chest, sucks at his nipple, traces patterns into the skin of Sam’s hips with his tongue. Every moan and gasp that Sam utters spurs him onward. “Could I—?” He reaches around and finds Sam’s ass and lays his hand there significantly.

Sam inhales deeply and nods, pulls his pants down, rolls over to one side while Josh applies lube. Josh lays beside him and lets his fingers find Sam’s entrance, and Sam gasps as Josh pushes into him. With his free hand Josh grabs Sam’s hip and digs his nails in just enough to make Sam gasp again.

“You can touch yourself, if you want,” Josh mutters, and Sam takes a hand to his cock and strokes it slowly. “Yeah, like that.” He kisses the top of Sam’s shoulder and enters him with a third finger.

“Josh,” Sam whines, pushing himself further onto Josh’s fingers. “You know that’s not what I want.”

“Be patient, baby, you’ll get it.” He spreads his fingers and Sam cries out in pleasure.

“Come on, please,” Sam implores.

Josh laughs quietly and pulls his fingers out. He guides Sam up onto his knees, holds him upright by his hips, places his hands against the headboard.

“Good?” Josh asks.

“Yes, please, Josh, goddamnit—”

“Fuck,” Josh groans, and he guides his cock into Sam’s ass.

Sam moans and pitches forward but Josh pulls him back up, uses his grip on Sam’s hips as leverage to sink further into him. He rolls his hips slowly, takes note of Sam’s unattended dick, and wraps a hand around him.

“Josh,” Sam cries, leaning back against him.

Josh presses kisses into his neck and strokes his dick, thrusts himself more quickly. “Sam, you feel so good,” he mutters. He sets his forehead on Sam’s shoulder and grips Sam’s hip more tightly. He can tell Sam is close by the way his breaths are coming in short spurts, the way his words are becoming just nonsense. He pushes forward with more urgency, his touch on Sam’s cock becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. “Come on baby,” he mumbles. He leans forward and sucks a dark red mark into Sam’s neck, and Sam crumples into the headboard as he comes. Josh eases himself out of Sam, whispers reassurances into his ear.

“I need a minute,” Sam says, breathing heavily.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, just watch,” Josh answers. He pulls off his condom and begins to touch himself, painfully aware of Sam’s eyes on him. “Look what you do to me,” Josh murmurs. Sam pulls him in to kiss him and Josh works his hand more frantically. He whines Sam’s name and comes into his hand.

“God,” Sam says, catching Josh’s weight as he leans into him. “You’re beautiful, and also a mess.”

“Yeah,” Josh agrees. “You have that effect on me.”

“Go clean up so I can hold you properly.”

“Gotta clean up,” Josh says, feeling sleepy and warm. He goes and washes himself off and settles back into Sam. They spread out over the bed, Sam leaning his head against Josh's chest, their hands intertwined. Josh dozes off several times, wakes up to Sam's soft kisses and gentle touch.

"Hey," he says when Sam wakes him by tracing the freckles on his arms.

"Hey," Sam says, kissing his palm. "Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"I care about you, too." He kisses Josh's palm again, flips his hand over and kisses the back, too. "I didn't say it earlier but I do. I care so much about you."

"C'mere," Josh says, and he draws Sam in for a long kiss. Sam settles back into his neck, throws an arm around his chest, but he still feels tense.

“It’s not just sex for me either.”

“I know, Sam.”

“And I’m sorry I suggested it was for you, I—I thought you might want an out.”

Josh tilts Sam’s chin up and looks into his eyes, sees there are tears forming there. “I don’t want an out from you, Sam Seaborn.”

Sam nods, and Josh kisses his lips firmly. He feels Sam’s muscles start to relax again and traces nonsense words into his back for a while.

"I won't push this, if you don't want me to," Josh starts, carefully. Sam picks his head up and rests his chin on Josh's bicep. "But. You shouldn't be working for Hoynes. Join us or don't, just anybody but Hoynes. You're better than that."

"I am," agrees Sam. "I can't leave, though."

Josh shakes his head. "Your sense of loyalty is misplaced here, I think."

"It's not loyalty," Sam says. He sits up and Josh follows suit. "My assistant, Laurie. She put herself through law school, she didn't have any help from her parents or anything, and you know how student loans are."

"I do," Josh agrees.

Sam sighs. "She was a call girl, Josh. For high profile politicians. And now she's debt free and has a law degree. But."

"Jesus," Josh breathes out. "And Hoynes knows?"

"Yes," Sam says.

"He's not—he's not fucking blackmailing you, is he?"

"No, no, it's not like that."

"What is it like, then?" Anger is rising in Josh again. "How the fuck can he—"

"It's three months," Sam sighs. "It's three months and then he'll lose and—"

"You don't think he'll concede after yesterday's debacle?"

Sam shakes his head. "He'll want the people to have their say about it."

“He was down three points by early polls yesterday, I'd venture to say by five this morning.” Josh gets up from bed and paces the floor for several minutes, trying to think of any way, any way, Sam—and Laurie—can get out of this and save face.

“Since you’re up, will you hand me my coffee?” Sam asks, and Josh obliges.

“Isn’t there—I mean, if it got to the press, we could spin it, had her right under his nose the whole time—”

“Absolutely not, Josh.”

Josh stops pacing and looks at Sam. There’s a quiet, fierce anger burning in his eyes when he looks back.

“She’s a person. She’s my friend, my best friend. When she graduated, I promised her a job with my firm, and she moved to New York for it. When I left to work for Hoynes, she came with me. I want her kept out of the press, Josh. She deserves better.”

“You’re right.” Josh comes back to bed and sits beside Sam, takes his hands in his own. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—you’re right, and I’m sorry.”

Sam calms, kisses both of Josh’s hands. “I know.”

They settle into a long silence as Josh racks his brain for ways to do something, anything. Sam pulls Josh in close to his chest and holds him tight.

“Josh,” Sam whispers. “It’s alright. I can make it three months.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Josh answers. He takes Sam’s hands and wraps their fingers together. “I just don’t know if I can.”

Sam looks up at him.

“I feel like this is gonna be the last time we’ll see each other for a while,” Josh sighs. “With Hoynes being...I don’t want you to risk your safety, or Laurie’s.”

Sam studies their hands. “I know you’re right,” he says. He cups Josh’s jaw with his hand, leans their foreheads together. “Let’s make it one to remember, then.”

\---

Josh erases his Google calendar of Sam’s schedule. He doesn’t want to remember. He doesn’t want his fingers to itch to message Sam, asking him to come around, to see him for a drink, to come to his room. He doesn’t want to beg, and he knows he’s not above it.

He calls Donna and Joey to his room that night and explains everything that’s happened. They let him cry and scream, let him rage against Hoynes and the Democratic process. They order Chinese food and beer and make him eat.

" _You're good friends,_ " he speaks and signs later, a few beers in and feeling full of Kung Pao chicken.

 _We love you, you idiot,_ signs Joey.

Donna kisses his forehead. "Yeah, we do."

Josh makes a new event on his phone when they leave. The Democratic National Convention. He downloads a countdown app and loads it to his home screen and lets the days until he can see Sam again become nothing but numbers in front of his eyes.

\---

It’s eleven seventeen and Josh is ankle deep in paperwork and not anywhere near a stopping point, and Toby ducks his head into the office.

“Josh,” he says softly, leaning against the doorway. “You know everyone else went home an hour ago.”

“You’re still here,” says Josh without looking up.

“I am,” Toby agrees. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“I’m fine, just paperwork,” Josh says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the many piles of shit on his desk.

“I meant—I meant are you alright.”

Josh does stop then to look up at Toby. His face is genuine, concerned. Josh frowns.

“You don’t usually involve yourself in conversations about my feelings,” Josh accuses.

Toby rolls his eyes and steps fully into the office. “We’re worried about you,” he explains.

“We?”

“Me, C.J., Leo, Ed and Larry. We tried to ask Donna but she brushed it off. You’ve been weird ever since we took the lead against Hoynes.”

“You drew the short stick on asking me.”

“Yes I did.”

Josh shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I have been weird. I’m not fine, sorry for saying I was. But I will be.”

Toby narrows his eyes. “Alright?”

“Thirty-nine days, Toby.”

Toby does some math in his head. “The convention?”

“The convention. I’ll be fine.”

Toby nods and steps back. “You should try to get a least a little sleep before then.”

“I make no promises,” says Josh, turning his attention back to the computer.

—-

Josiah Bartlet steps to the podium to the sound of a roaring crowd. Toby mouths every word he’s saying as he says it, scowling the whole time, but holding the champagne bottle at the ready. Josh feels the tension and excitement in the room winding up as Bartlet comes to the end of his speech.

“And so, it is with great pleasure that I accept your nomination for Presidency of the United States!”

The room bursts into cheers; Toby pops the bottle and begins pouring. There is hugging all around, and smiling, and laughing. C.J. is dancing around the room with a glass in her hand. Someone’s blasting music from their phone. She grabs Toby’s hand and pulls him in to dance with her, and he obliges, and Josh even sees a rare smile cross his face before he foists her off onto Danny. Donna and Joey are dancing, too, and Joey wraps her arm around Donna’s waist and leans in close. From where Josh is standing in the corner, he gives Donna a thumbs up when Joey’s back is turned, and Donna blushes pink.

“You’re not celebrating,” Leo says, making his way over to Josh.

“Would you believe I’m waiting for a phone call?” Josh asks.

“You can’t possibly be working right now, Josh, not tonight.”

Josh shrugs. “There’s more to be done.”

Leo sighs. “I should teach you the art of taking a break.”

Josh takes a sip from his drink. “Truth be told, Leo, there’s someone from the Hoynes campaign that I’m hoping will give me a call now that he’s out of a job.”

“What’s he do?”

“He’s a speechwriter.”

Leo narrows his eyes. “You think you’re gonna get a call from Sam Seaborn?”

“You know him?”

“I know his work. What makes you think he won’t go back to Gage Whitney?”

Josh looks at Leo and sighs. “We talked about it.”

Leo gives him a sharp look. “How—”

The door opens then, and the room falls silent. The phone that was playing music is shut off. Josh looks up from his drink—and then drops his cup promptly to the floor.

“Sam!” he calls. He runs across the room and tackles Sam in a hug. Josh can feel every eye in the room on him but he doesn’t care; the feeling of Sam’s arms around him after so long is like nothing he’s ever felt. “I missed you so much,” he whispers.

“I missed you,” Sam answers, smiling, putting a hand on Josh’s cheek.

“And I missed the part where I understood what was happening,” Toby says loudly. Josh turns toward him and feels his face redden; he catches Donna poorly concealing her laughter behind her hand and takes a small step away from Sam.

“This is Sam Seaborn,” Josh explains. “He, uh.”

Sam grabs Josh’s hand. “I’d like to work for you, if you’ll have me.”

Leo crosses his arms. “Well. That explains it.”

Josh catches Leo’s eye. “Leo—”

“Hallway, Josh. Now.”

“Ooh, he’s in trouble,” whispers C.J., and Donna snorts again as Sam and Josh cross the room to follow Leo into the hallway.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Josh says, closing the door behind himself.

“It looks like you’re sleeping with someone who, until very recently, was working for the candidate we’ve just beaten.”

“...okay, you’re right about that part, but there’s more to it than that.”

“Can I just say that Josh and I never once talked about our candidates?” Sam interjects.

Leo glares at him.

“I’m just—I’m gonna shut up now.”

Leo turns his scowl to Josh. “From the beginning, Josh.”

Josh takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning. About how they’d met, how they hadn’t known, about how they found out but couldn’t stay away from each other, about how they’d kept quiet about their jobs and kept their relationship separate. About how devastating it had been when Hoynes had gone viral. About why Sam had stayed.

Leo’s look hasn’t changed at all by the time Josh stops talking, and there’s a long silence with the air heavy between them, permeated only by the muted sounds of the music in the next room. Sam reaches for Josh’s hand again and squeezes it, and Josh shoots him a grateful smile.

Leo sighs and crosses his arms. “You should have told me.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

“What you did was shady, but it wasn’t wrong.”

Josh is silent.

“If you’d told me, I could have helped. With Laurie.”

Josh nods and hangs his head, and Sam squeezes his hand again.

Leo sighs again. He looks again at Sam. “I’d have to be an idiot not to let Hoynes’ best speechwriter on board, no matter how he might have gotten here.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“See to it that you don’t. You better do introduce yourself to Toby. You’ll be working closely together.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Sam squeezes Josh’s hand and goes back into the party, and Josh hears quite a bit of yelling and cheering. He turns back to Leo.

“I’m sorry again,” Josh sighs.

Leo puts a hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to. Get back in there.”

Josh gives him a half smile. “Thanks, Leo.”

He turns and heads back inside, and there is another round of cheers as he and Sam find each other again.

“Toby was right!” C.J. yells, and another chorus goes up.

“Jesus,” says Josh, rolling his eyes.

“Are they always like this?” Sam asks, a smile lighting his features.

“You better get used to it,” Josh says. “It’s your campaign now, too.”

“Finally.”

“Finally.”

Sam presses his lips to Josh’s, and there’s more cheering, and Toby groans loudly, and everything finally falls into place.

\---

“On the count of three?” Sam asks as they lay in bed later that night. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

Josh moves the Tinder app to uninstall and watches it disappear from his phone, and Sam does the same. They clink their phones together.

“Cheers,” Josh says, kissing Sam. “Laurie’s meeting up with us tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You get the feeling she and Donna and Joey are gonna plot to ruin our lives?”

“It’s entirely possible.”

“Good,” Sam says, and he kisses Josh again. His fingers find the knot on Josh’s tie. “Come here,” he says, pulling Josh to him. “I haven’t seen nearly enough of you yet tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm...planning a sequel for this so let me know if you'd be interested in it  
> zoe if you're reading this yes i did write at least significant chunks of it in the break room


End file.
